Saturday, April 29, 2023

Old Jersey Church, Lower Turkeyfoot Township

The Laurel Highlands Trail has a parking lot and entry point along the remote Jersey Hollow Road, just northwest of the village of Confluence.  This is rugged and beautiful country with unexpected vistas along the narrow, winding lanes.  


The semi-derelict church sitting in a cemetery on Jersey Hollow Road seems to go by several names: Old Jersey Church, Jersey Settlement Baptist Church, Turkeyfoot Baptist Church.  It was a Baptist congregation, obviously, which is somewhat rare in rural Pennsylvania.  Most of your far-flung country churches in these parts are Methodist, Lutheran, or Presbyterian.  Founded in 1788, it served settlers from New Jersey.  


I don't know if they still hold services here.  There's a portable outhouse out back, which was clean and well maintained, and a furnace in the dirt-floor basement.  An electric line runs to the building, and when I peeked inside I saw all the traditional accoutrements of a country church: American flag, Christian flag, faded old hymnals.  And yet, there's no place to park--aside from a tiny pull-off beside the road, big enough for three cars at the most.  And surely people don't walk to this place.


There was a grassy area next to the building where people might park, but it looked pretty untrammeled.  See the furnace inside the padlocked cellar?  The only thing separating this basement from the outdoors is a strong wire screen in the door and all windows--to keep the critters out.


The cemetery here is pretty large, and there's a newer one across the road with a sign advertising plots for sale.  


My guess is that there's a group of elderly folks who come back every now and again to clean the place up and do whatever quick repairs they can.  I don't know, maybe they hold a service here on a summer's afternoon with some retired Baptist minister who drives up from West Virginia.  But they're all getting a little too old for to keep coming back here to look after the church where they grew up, got married, and where they buried their parents and loved ones.  They'd like it if some younger folks stepped up to help keep the place from falling into ruin.  But the youngest folks alive who have fond memories of this little country church are in their late 60s.  You can only expect people to care about a place like this if they have sweet memories of it, and it apparently hasn't had a congregation in decades.  

Sic transit gloria mundi.

Laurel Highlands Trail, the Disappearing Overlook at about Mile 7.7


Such a beautiful day to spend in the Laurel Highlands.  It’s been a dry April, and the temperatures have alternated between unseasonably hot and unseasonably cold, but today was perfect. The trees are just beginning to bud in the uplands.  This is a shot of Sugarloaf Knob—which I’ve climbed—as seen from a certain disappearing overlook between miles 7 and 8 on the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail.


I call it “The Disappearing Overlook” because it doesn’t seem to have any other name, and I’m sure it’s only visible November through April.  It disappears for sure in the high summer, when the trees are in full leaf.  And yet, it’s a better view than the one you get from Brent’s Overlook, which is both year-round and named.


I began at Jersey Hollow Road and passed from mile marker 11 southward well beyond mile marker 8, at the narrow Augustine Road through the state game lands.  I turned around just before the long, steep descent into the Ohiopyle shelter area.  With the extra little distances I walked here and there, it ended up an 8-mile hike today, about four miles out and then back.


Actually, I stopped just short of the southernmost 8 miles of the Laurel Highlands Trail, which are the craziest and most difficult stretch of all 70 miles--enormous elevation changes in very short distances.  The rock formations between miles 11 and 8 are pretty impressive.  In fact, I came through this area some years ago to explore one of the rock cities.


Just behind this large boulder, there’s a vast field of enormous stones with crevasses and craggy canyons in between.  


But the highlight of this trip by far was the view of Sugarloaf Knob from a very short side trail just south of mile marker 8.  As I’ve explored the Laurel Highlands Trail, it’s occurred to me that I’ve already covered most of its 70 miles in day hikes.  Much of it will feel familiar when I do the whole thing in one fell swoop in July.   

Wednesday, April 5, 2023

1945 Helldiver Crash Site: FOUND IT! How to Get There

On a charmed third attempt, I finally found the site of the 1945 crash of a helldiver fighter jet, which was flying home to Detroit from a WWII victory celebration in DC.  Here are the melted remains of the engine, embedded in the forest floor.  For scale, you can see my daypack in the upper right hand corner of the photo.  It is indeed a very remote site, at least for Southwestern Pennsylvania.  Located on PA State Game Lands # 42 in the mountains just east of Ligonier, it takes some commitment to get there.

If all you want is information for how to reach the crash site, then skip to the bottom of this article, where I give the step-by-step directions.
The engine is probably about four feet in diameter, rusted, melted, weathered by nearly 80 years of sun and rain.  
When the plane crashed on October 9, 1945, local people helped authorities to find the wreckage.  No one knows exactly what went wrong.  This plane was flying in formation with a squadron of 21, when the pilot apparently tried to turn around and head for the nearest airport to the east.  They never made it and instead crashed into the western flanks of Sugar Camp Hill.  Locals pitched in to erect a plaque at the crash site, and someone still comes out here regularly to replace the small American flags when they get worn out.
Click this photo to read the plaque better.  Frank Z. Campbell and George Cohlmia, the only occupants of the jet, both died on impact.  Actually, Cohlmia, the radioman from Oklahoma, was found about 50 feet from the flaming remains of the helldiver.  Campbell, of Valdosta, Georgia, was still inside.  Some say that Cohlmia was out on the wing of the plane trying to save himself by jumping into the treetops.  Such a tragedy.  They survived combat in that horrific war.  Their families knew they were coming home, and then they died in some freak accident while flying over the Laurel Highlands.
Campbell, from all I can gather, was an only-child whose father died when he was very young.  He was 23 at the time of the crash.  His mother lived into her 80s, but was long-dead by the time the outside world began taking an interest in the crash site.  There's almost no information online about him.  Cohlmia is another story.  He was only 19 when he died (just one year older than my eldest child...).  He hailed from a family of 10 children born of Lebanese immigrants to Oklahoma.  Some of his relatives visited this site in the early 2000s.  There are many bits of debris still littering the ground around the melted engine, as seen here.  But please leave them there.  They are not mementoes for adventure seekers.  There's something of the sacred about them.  They belong to a tragedy that is not yours or mine to intrude upon.  All we can do at the crash site is to remember these poor fellows and to honor them.  
I first learned about this crash site on the Facebook page of the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail, which passes nearby.  The guy who posted photos on that page was pretty vague about how to reach the place.  I followed his directions and found them very wanting.  On my first attempt to reach the site, I tried to get there entirely on foot, which took a very long time and proved to be a failure.  On my second attempt, I arrived to find the mountaintops still too covered in snow to make the trek.  On my successful third attempt, I came with a bicycle, and instead of following the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail out to the area near the crash site, I rode a 20-year old Schwinn most of the way along a pipeline road that runs parallel to the trail.
So...here's how you get to the crash site: Throw a sturdy old bike into the back of your car and head east on PA 271 through the village of Waterford and up into the peaks of the Laurel Highlands.  When you reach the highest spot along the roadway, you'll see a large blue and white sign that says "Laurel Hill Summit, Elevation 2743 Feet."  When you see that sign, turn immediately into a small parking area on the right side of the road.  You'll see the pipeline road going into the forest.  Hop on your bike and pedal about 4--maybe 5--miles.  The road is muddy and undulating, and you'll have to get off and walk your bike pretty often, but you're still making MUCH better time than you could ever make on foot.  After 4 or 5 miles, you'll arrive at a big crossroads, pictured here.  It's the only big intersection that you'll come to, so there's no risk of getting the wrong one.
Turn right and soon you will begin to go downhill.  You'll pass a big TV or radio tower on the right.  Soon after that, you'll see yellow bands painted onto the trees on either side of the road; this indicates the spot where the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail crosses the lane.  You'll then pass a gas pad on the left--which is pictured here.  After going downhill about 6 tenths of a mile, you'll reach a large grassy meadow where the road ends.  
Here's a photo of that meadow as you draw near to it.  The road through here is pretty bad, but with the right bike you might be able to go as far as this meadow.  I ditched my 20-year old Schwinn up at the gas pad just because I wanted it to be in good condition to carry me back to my car, and I wasn't sure how rough the road would become.  Besides, I needed the pedometer on my phone to start measuring distances for me so that I could report them to this blog.  I want the world to know how to find Campbell and Cohlmia's sacred site.
Once inside the grassy meadow where the road ends, you'll see a much smaller road that leads off to the right.  It's in the far right-hand corner of the meadow.  This is where things get a little dicey.  Follow that small road to the right, but only follow it a few yards!  Once it takes you inside the woods, you'll see one small trail joining you from the left.  Do NOT take that trail.  It might lead to the crash site, but if it does, it's not the way I know.  Instead, take the second trail to the left.  This trail is much narrower and harder to see, but it's less than 50 feet from the first trail.  Follow this narrow trail about 2 tenths of a mile to a Y in the road, where you will see the rock cairn pictured here.  The cairn indicates the leftward branch of the road.  Turn left onto that path and begin a steady downhill descent.
I was just following instincts here because this left turn differed greatly from the advice that I'd found on Facebook.  But I was relieved to find that someone had painted little red airplanes on a few of the rocks and trees along this path.  Like the one here.  
From the cairn at the Y in the road, you will follow that leftward trail downhill for about 3 tenths of a mile.  The red airplane trail-blazes will become more frequent as you go.  They've got a strangely spooky quality to them, as does the forest in this area.  Thorny greenbrier chokes the forest floor, and many of the trees appear to be dead.  I was nervous to walk beneath large, dead trees in the strong April winds that sweep up over these heights.
Soon enough you'll see tattered old American flags looming through the trees.  This is the place where Frank Campbell and George Cohlmia died.  Click on this photo to enlarge it.  Here you'll see the plane's engine in the foreground to the left and the monument near the center of the photo.
Someone attached this crucifix to the top of the stone where the plaque is placed.
The wreckage of the plane is seen just over my shoulder and the plaque with the flags in the upper left corner.  
To summarize:
1) Park in the lot on the south side of PA 271 at the blue and white Laurel Hill Summit elevation sign.
2) From there, see the pipeline road heading south out of the parking lot and follow it for 4 or 5 miles to a crossroads.
3) Turn right at the crossroads and take that road downhill for about .6 (six tenths) of a mile.
4) At the meadow where the road ends, take the rightward trail into the woods.
5) Just inside the woods, take the second left and follow that trail .2 (two tenths) of a mile to a Y and a rock cairn.
6) Turn left at the cairn and follow that trail .3 (three tenths) of a mile to the crash site.